The struggle for paradise
Many 19th century Christians hoped to return to the North
American Eden that their own colonizing had destroyed. Their efforts shaped American society in
enduring ways – generating movements for conservation, women’s suffrage, the
New Deal, and Civil Rights. In their
struggles to preserve the beauty of the natural world and uphold the dignity of
all human beings, they dismantled doctrines of redemptive violence, and
challenged the idea that God divides the world into the elect and the
damned.
At the dawn of the 21st century, North American Christians
are still engaged in the struggle for paradise.
Popular forms of Christianity that look to heaven in ‘the world to come’
and embrace redemptive violence have become a major political voice; but the paradise
they offer waits for the end of the world – and they believe God’s plan is to
destroy this earth and rapture a select few into heaven.
American beauty
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| Thomas Cole, Expulsion from the Garden of Eden |
When Thomas Cole (1801-1848) was painting his
landscapes, the primeval forests of New England had all been felled. Cole, now known as the father of American
landscape painters, viewed the natural world as a divine textbook. He sought to
display moral struggles through the mirror of nature. His goal as an artist was to call people to
awakening – and he saw his richly shaded canvases, light on one side and dark
on the other, as a ‘battleground for the warfare of good and evil.’
Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), whose Walden
remains an all-time best-seller, searched for the wilderness his own Puritan
forebears had razed. For Thoreau, the wilderness was America’s salvation; only by
connecting to its renewing purity and freedom American society escape from its
sins. He noted that the word ‘sauntering’
comes from ‘Sainte-Terrer’ (a pilgrim
to the holy land): ‘For every walk is a sort of crusade….to go forth and
reconquer this Holy Land from the hands
of the Infidels…’
Some members of Thoreau’s circle sought to realize the ideal
of a natural life by living in communities devoted to agriculture,
spirituality, leisure, and social reform.
There were more than 100 of these Utopian efforts in the 19th century. Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) was invited to
join one of these Utopian efforts, but declined as did Thoreau. (Each was too allergic to ‘society’ to want
to join even a Utopian one.) Emerson
abandoned any idea of a traditional Calvinist divinity and became a writer and
lecturer, writing,
In the woods, we return to reason and faith….
I become a
transparent eyeball;
I am nothing; I see all;
the currents of the Universal
Being circulate through me;
I am part or parcel of God.
Emerson’s essay Nature was an evangelist’s call; but his
view of nature was typical of the American romanticism that idealized the
‘wild,’ but also sought to dominate it. (He
thought the true position of ‘nature in regard to man’ was akin to women’s
position with regard to men; nature had little value in itself, but attained
value as it reflected and supported man.
He argued for the rights of American Indians and opposed slavery, but he
thought the inequality between races was an indication that ‘some should lead,
and some should serve.’ While he wrote On Self-Reliance he was depending on the
support and care of his wife, mother-in-law, three servants, and a gardener –
thanks to wealth inherited from his first wife.)
In many ways, the wilderness conservationists of the 19th
century still inspire today’s environmental movements. But capitalist growth and environmentally
unsound practices continue to the present day.
Christians have also had difficulty combining their commitments
to global justice and peace with environmental responsibility. When
commitments to environmental issues are strong, discussions of racism and
sexism are often absent; where commitments to justice and nonviolence are strong,
environmental issues are often neglected.
And our nostalgic visions of nature and wilderness still disconnect us
from the everyday consumerism that causes cumulative harm to our environments.
Ever since Calvin located ‘Paradise’ on his map of the world,
his spiritual descendents have sought to locate paradise – or construct it – in
this world. But as long as Christians
imagine paradise as a place of purification and salvation – the ultimate and
final separation of the pristine from the corrupt – our visions of paradise
will only separate us from the present with its complex demands.
But Brock and Parker assert,
Life is actually sustained…. by integration, interaction, and exchange
in the present – it is ecological,
not eschatological. To change ourselves
and our environments, we will require a spiritual discipline of being aware of
our actions, moment to moment, to change what feeds the engines of destruction.
(see p. 388)
A generous justice
According to Brock and Parker, modern commitments to God’s
generous justice and love began with the Universalists, whose roots extend back to 17th
century England, in the writings of Jane Leade (1624-1704), who offered a
spiritual vision of paradise as a realm in this life.
In America, Judith Sargent Murray (1751-1815) published a catechism for parents, writing that the
Lord’ Supper should not be an ‘figure of the sufferings of the Redeemer,’
but a ‘gathering together of the many
grains.’ The Eucharist should celebrate the
connectedness of all human beings now and to come – none should be left outside.
Sargent (along with her husband John
Murray) rejected the Great Awakening’s ideas about the wrath of God, the
transcendent distance of heaven, and predestination to salvation or damnation. As
she questioned social hierarchies based on gender distinctions, Sargent Murray became
one of America’s earliest advocates for women’s equality and right to
education.
A century later, Hosea Ballou (1771-1852) rejected the idea of an
angry God who needed to be appeased by his son’s suffering. Ballou observed that Christians who believed in
a violent God resorted to violence and thought themselves justified. But to
believe violence could be Christian was to doubt the power of God’s love to
save the world. Ballou became a leading proponent of Christian Universalism, believing
that no matter how much sin and death abounded, grace was greater. Nothing humanity might do could overcome the
loving, generous grace of God.
The Universalist alternative to atonement theology
emphasized God’s all-embracing love and the beauty of Christ, who drew people
to acts of justice and mercy, and to happiness.
True happiness lay in seeking it not only for oneself but for every
human being.
By the middle of the 19th century, Universalism was
flourishing, especially among poor and middle-income whites in small towns and
rural areas. Universalist Christians
embodied their faith by working for social changes that rejected redemptive
violence and expressed God’s love for all souls. They advocated for women’s rights and were an
early denomination to ordain women. They
worked to abolish slavery, and Universalist churches were often stops on the
Underground Railroad through which runaway slaves were led to freedom. They opposed capital punishment and organized
prison reforms. They promoted Christian
pacifism.
Many 19th century Christians came to reject the doctrine of
the atonement and its sanctification of bloodshed. Instead of focusing on personal sins, Theodore Parker
(1810-1860) understood sin in transpersonal ways. Parker believed social evils were sustained by four powerful
social systems: economics, politics, education, and organized religion. As an
alternative to atonement theology, 19th century Christians drew on the first
chapters of Genesis to reassert the idea that salvation restored the imago dei (image of God) in
humanity. Rooted in Methodist ‘holiness movements’
and radical religious groups such as the Quakers and Shakers, women claimed they were
authorized by the indwelling Spirit of God to live in freedom and dignity, to
manifest their having been created in the image of God. Imago
dei theology inspired movements for abolition, prison reform and peace, as
well as for women’s rights.
An emerging intellectual movement, moral philosophy, also developed
an imago dei theology. William Ellery Channing (1780-1842) preached
that the human capacities for reason, affection, imagination, will creativity,
and moral conscience reflected the imago
dei. Some of Channing’s parishioners
applied his imago dei preaching to a
range of issues – women’s rights, early childhood education, free public
education for all children, protesting Indian removal and abolition of
slavery. (But when Channing himself
finally took a strong and public anti-slavery stand the year before his death,
he lost his pulpit.)
Channing’s caution in publicly supporting abolition was
typical of elite white Christians, who advocated some social reforms, but balked
at others that would disrupt their privileged status. Imago
dei theology can go only so far in fostering human solidarity and changing
power dynamics. Such theologies assume
that individuals seeing others as like themselves
provide an adequate basis for human community – whereas true community requires
recognizing others both as alike and other,
distinct and valuable in their differences.
In response to critiques of redemptive violence from
Universalists and Unitarians, some Christians reasserted the doctrine of the
blood atonement. Congregationalist Howard Bushnell (1802-1876) thought that
Ballou, Parker and Channing had gone too far.
Bushnell felt that humanity, frozen in hard-heartedness and selfishness,
could be moved by the warm-blooded passion of God’s vicarious suffering. Christ’s sacrifice on the cross could save
souls by drawing them to become like him, burdened in sorrow and pain by the
sufferings of others. Imago dei theology saw humans as Godlike
in their capacities for empathy, agency, and generosity – powers that should be
used to assist the downtrodden and oppressed.
Christian reformers understood themselves to be those with
power, which they were to use to lift up the less powerful. But a theology which emphasized God’s
benevolent paternalism blessed whites who emotionally identified with black
suffering, and praised men who sympathized with women’s subjugation. It valorized the privileged who found
wholeness by connecting with the poor.
Benevolent paternalism reasserted the centrality of Christ’s
crucifixion as an image of compassion but also protected white supremacy. Bushnell and many other elite liberals wanted
a nurturing, co-suffering God; but while showing compassion for the victims of
their systems of power, they still retained the illusion of their own
superiority. Writing of blacks, Bushnell
wrote, “Nothing can save the inferior race but a steady and pliant
assimilation.”
Moral clarity about evil and sin
Since the 10th century, Christian theology has often seen torment
as redemptive, war as holy, invasion as liberation, and self-annihilation as
love. But living justly in this world
requires people to name evil and sin accurately.
In the early 20th century, an astute analysis of evil was
offered by ‘Social
Gospel” Christians, who believed the purpose of Christian life was
to “bring in the Kingdom of God.”
Walter Rauschenbusch (1861-1918) believed that
personal salvation for individual souls after death was not the point of
Christian faith. Rauschenbusch’s Theology
for the Social Gospel criticized Christian ideas that sanctioned war,
racism, imperialism, economic injustice, and exploitation of the earth’s
natural resources.
Sin mattered not because it disappointed or offended God but
because it disrupted relationships of love and justice. For Rauschenbusch, selfishness was the root
of all sin, and evangelical revivalism was selfish. Viewing sin as individual failing alone was inadequate.
The death of Jesus did not redeem humanity from its
sins. Rather, it revealed the character
of collective sins – what Rauschenbusch called “transpersonal evil.” He listed
six kinds of sin that had combined to kill Jesus:
- Religious bigotry
- Graft and political power
- A corrupt legal system
- Mob spirit and mob action
- Militarism
- Class contempt and class divisions
For Rauschenbusch, God was “the ground of social unity” and
not the God of only one group or one nation.
He objected to forms of Christianity in which “full moral obligation
stopped at the religious boundary line.”
But even while he called for solidarity, he saw racism as a southern
problem. As a German Baptist pastor in
New York, he did not befriend black ministers.
Another Baptist pastor would press his vision forward beyond segregation
– Martin Luther
King, Jr.
Please continue reading on the next post,
“The Stone of Hope”


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